The First Time – Shemale Sex Stories
Sunday, April 8th, 2007Kate heard the bell ring from downstairs and dashed to the
mirror. The reflected image betrayed no flaws. The lipstick was
red and thickly applied, giving the pouting lips a playful glow.
The green eyes were right too– the dark eyebrows thinly plucked,
the long lashes batting with plenty of body and dark promise, the
eyes themselves clear, bright and green as polished emeralds. No
eyeshadow though– the Teacher thought that eyeshadow on Kate
gave a too-mature look and Kate was only sixteen. Cheeks were
smooth, with a complexion that was clear but for the inevitable
freckles of an Irish redhead. Delicate fingers dabbed tempting
perfume on pulse points and behind pink earlobes as the face
observed itself. Kate drew back the healthy mane of thick auburn
hair into a manageable ponytail, the practised hands smoothing
down the errant tresses into the big bowed red ribbon.
Too girlish? Kate wondered, then left the bow in place. Teacher
liked the girlish look and Kate always strove to make the Teacher
happy. It was the only way to get by from day to day. The sight
check continued as Kate inspected the skimpy garments that
clothed the small, lithe teenaged body. They weren’t as sleazy
as what Kate might be made to wear, that what for sure. The
others had to wear such slutty things– crotchless panties,
garter belts, fishnet stockings and open-nippled brassieres.
Maybe I ought to be grateful, thought Kate. What looked back in
the full-length mirror wasn’t too slutty. Just a matching bra
and panty set, pretty bright blue. And they weren’t silk or
anything– just Hanes For Her. The panties were French-cut and
rested high on the hips, clinging tightly to Kate’s curvy tight
midsection and butt– simple and perfectly appropriate for a girl
of sixteen. And the bra wasn’t some bullet contraption. Not
that Kate could fill that out, with an embarrassingly small set of
32A breasts. No, the bra was just a soft blue cotton thing
without wiring or teasing lifts. All it did was cover the small
pert things and give them a little definition and the smallest
shapely lift. All in all, Kate looked just like any average-to-
cute looking high school girl in her undies. No cheerleader, but
not desperate for a boyfriend either. And certainly not some
streetwalker. No, there was nothing unusual with what stared back
in the mirror, was there?
There was if the starer was really a boy, Kate thought bitterly.
The little cock thrummed in the chastity belt defiantly, if
impotently. But the crafty construction of the Teacher’s
equipment refused to let the small cock out of its imprisonment.
No surprise– it hadn’t for eight months, ever since it had been
locked on. Kate sighed, then banished the taboo thoughts. The
Teacher had once explained to Kate the simple, too-obvious fact
that it didn’t do any good to think such thoughts.
“These thoughts, they don’t make you feel good, do they? And
your situation certainly isn’t going to change, so it doesn’t do
you any good, does it Kate?” Teacher was always so clear in his
explanations, everything so darn unarguable.
“Well, no sir,” Kate answered simply. But a frown broke
involuntarily over Kate’s lips, the kind that came even when ever
effort was being made to behave, to accept.
“Kate, your thoughts are not APPROPRIATE for a proper young lady.
You are a pretty, well spoken girl with a very pleasing attitude
most of the time. Now, I will see a happy smile on your face
now– frowns will give you wrinkles and don’t do a thing for
boys.”
And so Kate smiled brightly, especially at the mention of boys.
Boys, boys, boys. Everything was about boys and being
appropriate. And there was the real desire to act appropriately
and an all-the-time fear lurking deep down of boys NOT being
attracted to Kate, Kate’s smile, Kate’s face, Kate’s body,
everything Kate.
And now it was the Time. That was why Kate felt so nervous, so
flighty, so scared. Kate remembered a time when thinking wasn’t
so hard, so difficult. The drugs and hypnosis and physchological
training and disciplining had all forced changes on Kate in the
last eight months, robbing the subject of independence of thought
or even trying to think.
“Pretty girls don’t think– they just smile, Kate. Understand?”
the Teacher had told Kate, who replied with a big bright smile.
Oh yes, Kate understood. Especially after a question had been
asked. It had been a simple one– “Why are you doing this to
me?” and the answer had been an injection. Hours later, Kate
awoke nervous and silly and without any thought other than to
NEVER, EVER to ask a question like that again.
After that, the rest seemed to come in a rush. The dressing
lessons, the make-up lessons, the manners lessons, the hygiene
training, the constant body-shaping aerobics exercising, and all
the rest. All of it was accepted without questioning of any kind
by Kate. Questions would mean big words, big thoughts that
weren’t appropriate for a girl like Kate.
There were conversations, though. With the Teacher. He would
ask questions and the answers would seem to spring out of Kate’s
mouth, words that came so easily that they seemed to be put there
by the Teacher himself. And once Kate had dreamed that there
were words that broke the silence of sleeptime, words that Kate
would use when awake. But that must have been a dream indeed.
“Do you like math, Kate?” the Teacher would ask.
Kate would cast eyes down, smile foolishly. The auburn mane
would shake “no” and Kate would giggle. “Math is just for boys,
Sir.”
“Do you like sports, Kate?” The voice was so calm, so reassuring.
Kate always knew when the right answers were coming out.
Again, the long auburn hair shaking. “Sports are so icky, Sir!”
“But I bet sports interest you a little, doesn’t it Kate?”
Kate grinned. “Football is fun– to watch, I mean. Not to play.
Football players are so handsome.” Was that answer right?
The Teacher smiled. “But you wouldn’t like to play football,
would you Kate?”
A vapid giggle and a shake of that straight long lustrous auburn
hair.
“What would you like to do, Kate?” the voice asked curiously.
Kate folded the small hands, unconsciously checking the pink
polish of the three inch nails. “Well, Sir, I would like to make
myself pretty with the makeup you gave me and bake cookies for
boys, just like I learned.”
The Teacher patted the auburn hair and Kate knew that the right
answer was given. “Of course you would my dear, and so you
shall.”
There were more conversations like that. As the weeks went on,
Kate learned what were the right answers and what were the wrong
answers. Also learned were the things that mattered most– like
keeping nails polished, keeping dress hems from rising too high,
to keeping hair arranged perfectly. Learning when to smile
brightly and when to listen respectfully. Discovering how to
walk like a lady in the high heels Kate was given, careful always
to walk by swinging the hips, not bending the knees. How to keep
arms up and always away from the body. Oh, it was all so very
important, the Teacher said. Otherwise, people would be so
disappointed in pretty Kate and we wouldn’t want that would we?
Oh, no, Kate mused, I know I wouldn’t want that! Because when
Kate didn’t give the right answer, it didn’t take the Teacher
long at all to take Kate over his knee. The teenager hated
waiting while he yanked up the skirt and peeled down the panties.
It seemed to take forever as he raised his hand and then let it
fall hard and fast on Kate’s bare smooth butt. The number of
spanks depended on just how wrong Kate’s answer was. At first,
the answers were painfully wrong. But after awhile, Kate
learned, really learned, to give the right answers.
Because you couldn’t just pretend to give the right answer. The
Teacher seemed to know just what was in Kate’s head (again those
voices at night drifting in and out in the dark!) and if the
right answer wasn’t given without so much a second’s hesitation,
gosh, Kate was soon looking at the floor as the Teacher began
“correction.”
Oh, but the bell was ringing, the little tinkling bell outside.
Kate had to hurry, to make sure everything was right. The First
Time was ever so important, the Teacher said! Kate nervously
checked the legs and underarms for hairs missed in shaving, the
eyebrow not perfectly straight, the uneven patch of too-dry skin.
Oh, it was maddening, all the details you needed to be aware of
when you were a teenage girl! Especially for the First Time!
And gosh, when you had been a boy to start with, it took extra
work, like the Teacher said!
Downstairs, in another part of the Teacher’s gracious suburban
home, two men spoke. One, a distinguished looking man of perhaps
fifty smoked a pipe and thoughtfully listened to his guest. He
wore an expensive well-worn herringbone jacket which he
frequently investigated for more pipe tobacco. The man speaking
was handsome, thirty, and in a good mood. From his casual dress,
well-defined physique and confident demeanor, he might have
passed for a polite bouncer at a successful and upscale
nightclub.
“So,” the younger man continued, flexing an arm, “the subject is
prepared to your satisfaction?”
The older man grinned reassuringly. He nodded, the pipe never
leaving his mouth.
“I see. Well, tell me, what should I look for in terms of
problems or deviations from what you said I should expect?” The
younger man pressed, deliberately if delicately. His numerous
negotiations in Asia had taught him the necessity of bringing up
all details before closing a deal.
The older man hooked his thumbs into the lapels of the English
herringbone. He liked to wear it in the late afternoons in the
Fall on days like this. It was a pleasure wearing a jacket like
this. Maybe that’s why it seemed so appropriate to what he did.
Looking in the other man’s eyes, he answered the question for the
hundredth time. He could calm all their fears by now by
patiently explanation almost by rote.
“Well,” he began slowly, “Kate has been disabused of any notion
that ’she’ is a boy. The chastity belt allows her to relieve
herself, but doesn’t allow for arousal. This will cause her pain
as I suspect arousal will occur at some future time,” he skipped
over this as a feral gleam escaped from his guests eyes, “but she
will learn to accommodate it.”
“How?” demanded the guest sharply. All questions must be
answered.
“Why, through three factors, actually. First, pharmacologically,
her body chemistry has been altered. This was necessary in order
to begin the growth of her breasts. There is now more estrogen
that testosterone in the blood mix and she is now capable of
generating her own estrogen rather than injections. This
alteration will stymie penile arousal while igniting the
physchological factor.”
“Which is?”
“Which-” he paused, clearly perturbed by being interrupted and
showing so,” has been implanted through neural nets and hypno-
physchosis. These processes have supplanted many natural
impulses and behavior vis a vis the male and female gender.
Kate’s value system has been rearranged so to speak, the blocks
of values previously held now in a different pattern, this having
been effected through the nets and hypno-processes.”
Rather than interrupt again, the younger man shook his head in
confusion.
The older man smiled. “All this means,” he waved his hands as if
to wave away the confusion, “is that whereas eight months ago
Kate was a boy, with all the natural inclinations and desires of
a fifteen year old boy, he is now she, a sixteen year old girl–
with all the inhibitions and feelings of a teenage girl.”
“All?” pressed the other with a wicked smile.
“Oh, yes. Well, most. It is impossible to erase all the male
identity. But that is why the Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs is
such an important concept for you to understand in this regard.
You’re familiar with it?”
The man scratched his head. “I can tell you the price of
microchips in Singapore, but I confess, it has been awhile since
I was back here at Elgin, sir. I don’t recall what it is, but it
sounds familiar.”
The older man’s eyes rolled in disappointment. “We take such
care in devising this cirriculim for you boys, but–ah, well!
Maslow was a clinical physchologist who discovered that within
each of us is a series of needs which we need to satisfy on our
way to self-actualization, a term which basically means complete
satisfaction with our existence.
The basics are, as you would expect, food, shelter, clothing, and
the like. Next comes what we would think of as physical
pleasure, then wealth and power and so forth. Well, in Kate’s
mind we have displaced the importance of female values with that
of male values. She now values female values as basic survival
values but is attracted toward male attributes in order to self-
actualize. Understand now?”
The quizzical look on the younger man’s face was the silent reply.
“Very simple, you see. Kate finds absolutely none of the mystery
she used to find in things she has been trained to think are
female– things like beauty, grace, the desire to please, the
urge to attract. Those things are lower values, essentially the
price she pays for being what she is now– the price of
admission.”
Comprehension dawned quickly on the business executive’s face and
he nodded for the academic to continue.
“What she secretly longs for and values are what she has been
taught are male attributes– strength, confidence and sureness
of purpose, even selfishness.”
“So she what you’re saying, if I get it, is that Kate isn’t some
prima donna beauty queen now, right?”
“Oh, far from it! She’s attractive, to be sure, but she doesn’t
perceive her beauty to have any value in isolation from a male.
None of what she has to offer has any value without a male to
please with her charms.”
“And there isn’t any boy left in her?”
“There will be a marginal amount, but that is where the third
factor comes into play.”
The man gestured with his finger. “I was going to ask you about
the third. Aren’t the first two sufficient?”
The Headmaster’s eyes widened. “I haven’t educated and trained
juveniles this long without discovering that old fashioned
discipline works as many wonders as modern physchology and
medicine!”
“Very good, I see,” replied the guest. “Well, that takes care of
the subject’s physical, emotional and mental well-being. What
about the legal implications of all this?”
The Headmaster handed him a sheaf of papers in a manila folder,
which his guest slowly paged through as the older man explained.
“The subject is a scholarship student whom the Academy took on as
part of a program with the local authorities. The subject has no
known family, had been hosted by a number of foster homes, and
was dangerously close to being remanded to a county facility for
juvenile delinquents, when accepted here. As a result, the
subject was placed under the legal auspices of the Academy. The
subject was delighted to be here.” The older man smiled archly.
“No surprise there, of course. Were you aware that this is one
of the most exclusive boy’s preparatory schools in the nation?
We can count seven presidents who prepped here and our scholastic
achievements are too numerous to mention. Why our SAT average–”
The younger man cut him off. “Sir, with all due respect, you
forget I prepped here. I am well aware of the Academy’s well-
deserved reputation. Please, please just continue,” he added
smiling.
The older man shrugged. One of the problems of dealing with
youngsters all day was that you could easily forget how to deal
with adults! He chuckled. “Of course, of course. My apologies!
Anyway, it was reported back to the proper county offices and
social workers that the subject was not fitting in well, that in
deed, was causing difficulties for our other students.
Naturally, the social worker who came to investigate the
subject’s disappearance was quite disgusted. When given the
chance to get a first-class education all on scholarship, without
the county having to spend a dime, the fact the subject ran
away was enough to put the whole program into question.”
The younger man was taken aback. “Then you’ve canceled the
program to take these students on scholarship?”
“Not at all,” the older man reassured him. “I reluctantly agreed
to continue the program, which delighted the social worker to no
end. Do you know that the county spends over thirty thousand
dollars a year to– ah, but I am digressing. Back to the point.
Yes, the program continues, but now only under the condition that
the Academy not be plagued by constant visits from the Social
Services Office or regular reports. Elgin Academy graciously
extended the program to accept these hardship students under the
condition that the only nuisance the county be allowed to ask for
is a copy of the subject’s diploma upon graduation.”
The younger man chuckled. “Well, how very convenient,
Headmaster. And how very profitable!”
The older man smiled in shared confidence. “Isn’t it, though?
And with regard to that, I must thank you for your kind
contribution.” A grateful hand was offered, which the executive
took.
“Say, Headmaster, could you turn on the monitor in Kate’s room
like you did the last time I was here?” There was a slight jump
in his deep voice as he made the request. Like a kid taking a
peek at a Christmas present, he thought in guilty excitement.
The prep school headmaster nodded indulgently. “By all means.
Let us see what the dear is up to.” He pulled a key from his
jacket pocket and unlocked the door of the wallmounted wood
cabinet behind him. The opened door revealed a dark monitor.
the academic punched in a code on the monitor console and the
monitor expanded into a technicolor square.
“She’s so damn cute!” The businessman looked at the small figure
on the screen with rapt attention. “And she’s got a figure now–
that was just starting the last time I was here!”
“Yes, Kate is filling out. As I’ve said before, she won’t ever
be a Dolly Parton. In fact, what she’s got is probably all
she’ll ever have, though I haven’t had the heart to break it to
her. Funny, that. At first, she required quite a bit of coaxing
to get her to wear her training bra. She was so– obstreperous.
‘Why do I have to wear a bra?’, ‘I don’t like having breasts’,
‘I’m really a boy’ and all the rest. So ridiculous. But in
time, she’s accepted them, more than that I would say! She’s
been measuring herself every day, becoming ecstatic if she grew a
micrometer! Always reading articles in her copies of Sassy and
Seventeen about breast size and so forth. Look at her– even
now, she’s obsessed with them!”
The screen gave a clear view of what the Headmaster was referring
to. Kate cupped her small breasts, lifting them and looking at
herself in the mirror. Then she dropped her hands and thrust her
chest out like a cadet, an unsatisfied look on her face.
“So damn cute!” repeated the younger man roughly. Then,
recovering himself a bit, turned to the Headmaster. “Sort of
looks like Jodie Foster, don’t you think?” He asked the question
self-consciously, almost self-congratulatory.
“Of course she does, Edgar. After all, that’s what you told me
you wanted in a niece– a thin redhead with a pale complexion,
sharp pretty features, slim hips, small breasts– all you asked
for. I believe you mentioned Jodie Foster as Kate’s physical
model, did you not?”
“Yeah, well I think you’re right.” The younger man’s eyes
narrowed. “Quite a babe that Jodie Foster. Anyway, what has she
been told again?”
“That her uncle is coming for her today and he wants to see how
much his niece has developed. That the last time you set eyes on
her, she was very, very young. That her long-lost uncle is a
very successful businessman who works in Asia. And that if she
is ‘mature’ enough, you’ll take her with you when you go back to
Asia.”
The exec’s eyes were fixed on the feminine figure primping on the
monitor. “It’ll be wonderful to take her over there. The life
of an expatriate is a lonely one and as I mentioned, the AIDS
epidemic is getting quite virulent. It was obvious to me some
eight months ago that the usual company with which I indulged
myself was just getting to dangerous. Risky. Still,” his brow
creased, “to be honest, even now I wonder if a real girl wasn’t
the way to go.”
Headmaster shook his head. “Too expensive, even for you, Edgar.
Besides, I’m sure she please you– except for the genital switch,
there’s not a lot of difference now. And girls are far more
difficult to train. Besides this way you’re helping your alma
mater. Your ‘contribution’ pays off in two ways– it is tax-
deductible plus you enjoy the benefit of a pretty, well-bred
young companion. How else can you both save yourself a great
deal of money, make our library expansion possible and gain such
a delightful traveling partner?” He pointed at the monitor with
his pipe.
Edgar looked sheepish. “I’m so pleased to help the Academy. The
library needed the new wing, Headmaster. I’m honored to be a
part of the continuing success of the school. And delighted to be
part of your special extracurricular program, sir.”
The academic pulled on his herringbone lapels and smiled broadly.
“Anything for an alum of old Elgin! You know this program has
done wonders for our fundraising. It is because of such
supporters like you that our special education program works so
well. Do you remember your classmate John Worthington?”
The younger man nodded. “Good old Jack! How is he? I heard
he’s the youngest ambassador ever appointed to France!”
“Oh yes, we’re quite proud of him at Elgin, as we are of you– I
saw you on the cover of BusinessWeek touting you as the country’s
hottest portfolio manager in the Far East. Anyway, John is going
to France and along with his wife and young son, he is bringing
along a nanny, a certain young lady of seventeen named Samantha.”
The guest tried to trap a chuckle with his hand. “You’re not
suggesting old Jack–”
The Headmaster smiled in amusement. “Let’s just say Samantha, a
lovely brown-haired thing, used to be a young street ruffian
named Sammy or something! Too bad we can’t ‘help’ more of our
former students this way, the school needs so much work.”
“Why not simply ask more alums if they’d be interested?”
The Headmaster shook his head. “Believe it or not Edgar, most
tastes run to the rather ordinary. It takes a very special
person to appreciate a delicacy like Katie or Samantha. And the
gymnasium does need so much repair. I think our basketball team
can have such a superlative season. Ah, but funds are lacking!”
Edgar shrugged. “How much would you need to do a complete
repair?”
The older man scratched his graying head. “Perhaps two million–
at least one.”
Edgar smiled widely. “If Katie is half of what you promise
she’ll be, I think we can find that money, Headmaster!”
“But Edgar, are you offering to donate–???”
“Please sir, I’m successful, but not that successful. However I
have an idea. I’ll call you next year– by that time I’ll know
if it’s feasible.” On that mysterious note, the guest turned
intently on the older man. “I’d like to see what I have bought
now, if that’s all right.”
The Headmaster nodded and pushed a button at his desk. Upstairs
Kate heard the bell again, loud and insistent. “To let her know
her ‘uncle’ is coming up to see her,” the Headmaster explained.
As the two men approached the small locked door, the Headmaster
pressed some small items into the other man’s hands. He put his
hand on the other man’s arm, the powerful biceps bulging under
the casual sports jacket.
“I’ll let you two get acquainted. She’s dressed precisely as you
wished– a pleasant deviation from the usual norm, I must say.
Take as long as you like of course, the she can dress. Her bags
are packed and you can leave with her any time you like. If you
have any problems, contact me at once.” The headmaster gave him
an understanding smile. “The initial training can be sticky, but
she is waiting for you. And as much as she is afraid of you–
and will probably continue to be– she is just as secretly
excited about being your ‘niece’ and everything that goes with
it. Good luck old man, and see you at Homecoming next year.”
With that, the older man walked down the stairs.
The younger man looked at the items in his palm. There were two.
One was a square plastic package that was labeled “Stud Condom–
Ribbed For Extra Pleasure”. The other was a tiny key with a
small tab. It read simply “Kate.” He placed the key carefully
on his keychain, then opened the door.
Kate stood facing him, head bowed but green eyes looking
anxiously at him. Her hands and arms nervously covered her
chest, then with a forced jitter, dropped to her side, exposing
her blue cotton brassiered chest. She chewed her lower lip, then
with a supreme effort, smiled sweetly for her guest.
“Hello, Uncle Edgar. I’m so glad to see you.” The words were
offered like a gift that the giver knew, just knew, wasn’t good
enough, but had to try anyway.
Uncle Edgar closed the door behind him and gestured for Kate to
approach him. With head bowed, she carefully walked over to
present herself to him, her hips swaying slightly, her hands
raised and away from her hips.
“Aren’t you going to give your Uncle a big kiss when I’ve come
from so very far away to see my pretty niece?” he chided her.
She smiled brightly at the compliment then and hoped, just hoped
that she would never ever make her new uncle mad. He seemed so
handsome and so nice. She threw her thin arms up and around his
broad shoulders as best she could (he was so tall!) and, closing
her eyes as taught, offered the red painted pouting lips up for
him to take as he wished. And even as she had hoped it would all
be nice for the First Time she met HIM, she felt his hands
roughly reach down and squeeze her butt hard, then cup her little
breasts. And she was afraid, afraid even though deep in her
beating heart she felt a new warm and dark thrill flowering.
This wouldn’t be the kind of First Time she had expected at all,
as he pressed her down to her knees. She thought, this is a
different kind of First Time, even as he placed her hands on his
thighs and forced the pink nailed fingers around his trouser
zipper. And years later, even after her Uncle Edgar had taught
her so much more, when she thought back to the First Time, Kate
would shiver in terror and delight.
Hong Kong, six months later
Laughter from downstairs. Katie (Uncle Edgar liked ‘Katie’
better than ‘Kate’ so she was now officially ‘Katie’) listened to
the male guffaws without interest. Uncle Edgar had so many
guests over all the time. Anyway, they kept him busy. There was
so much entertaining in Asia. Uncle Edgar said it was part of
doing business. They had been at it for a couple of hours now,
long after the cook and maid had served dinner, cleared the
dishes and left for the night. Katie could smell the cigarette
smoke and the clink of cocktail glasses from the party going on
below, now and then the karaoke machine with the accompanying
Chinese voices.
Anyway, it occupied Uncle Edgar’s time which was o.k. with Katie.
She would have been in bed much sooner (Uncle’s Rule #9: lights
out at 9:00 pm) but his mind was on his guests right now. Maybe
he had even forgotten what day it was, Katie hoped fretfully. So
Katie continued to read quietly, hoping to finish the magazine
she was reading. It was an English copy of “Teen Babe” magazine.
She couldn’t pick up a word of Chinese which wasn’t taught to her
anyway, so she was always excited when Uncle gave her a copy just
in from the overseas packet. She was engrossed in reading an
article called “When To Tease And When To Please,” all about
dating tips. She had been reading it all night, over and over
again. It had just the most super advice, like:
Tease Tip #1 Boys love it just scads when a girl wears tight
pullovers! But remember,
Please Tip #1 Your bra should be easy for him to take off once
he gets underneath that sweater!
Katie blew on her drying red nails and carefully turned the
magazine page and continued reading.
Tease Tip #2 Boys like it when you ask them to do things for
them because you can’t– ‘you’re just a girl’, but
Please Tip #2 Boys don’t like it when you ask too much. Don’t
be a ’space’– remember your place!
Too much reading at one time was beginning to bore her. She
flipped the cover over. A beautiful blonde girl stared up at
her. The model was so hot-looking (‘inappropriate thought’ the
teacher would say! and Uncle wouldn’t say anything; he’d just
take poor Katie over his knee!). But Katie couldn’t help it and
slowly the limp cock stirred. Katie blew on her fingers again and
rolled onto her flat, trim tummy, squashing the growth before the
troublemaker began rubbing itself raw against the metal mesh of
the chastity belt. She emptied her mind of the thoughts then
re-addressed the cover consciously. Yes, the model was pretty.
Yes, Katie bet she had many boyfriends. Once again she was just
another girl, nothing more. The stirring stopped and Katie was
grateful. It was happening less and less but it never went away
entirely. It caused her too many problems. She blew on her
nails again.
“Katie!” It was Uncle Edgar! “I know you’re awake! Get down
here– I want to introduce you to some guests!”
She frowned. “Uh, Uncle, I’m not really dressed,” she pleaded
lamely through the door.
“Now!” Uncle Edgar boomed.
Katie rolled off the bed. She had on a pair of black cotton
panties and a tight cropped red tee shirt that rode high over her
midriff. She grabbed her pink silk kimono top and slipped into
it, tying the waist knot of the sash tight. It only accentuated
her lovely curved hips but Katie was not aware of this as she
sashayed down the steps, obediently smiling.
“Yes, Sir?”
The two Asians were seated on a wide leather couch. One was
older, the other a younger more protege-looking type. They spoke
to each other in rapid, excited Mandarin, smiling and gaping at
her. Her uncle sat across from them in an arm chair. He patted
his knee.
She kept her head bowed and minced over, seating herself daintily
on his knee. His arm encircled her waist, finding a home right
under the band of Katie’s panty’s thin elastic band. Her hands
folded over one another and rested on top of it.
Edgar switched to Mandarin now, though he knew Katie wouldn’t
understand it.
“My little whore, Katie! You like gentlemen?”
The protege smiled widely at first, but held his tongue as the
older Chinese gave a more neutral expression.
“Pretty like your American actress Jodie Foster. But like the
actress, her breasts are small.”
“It can be arranged that they are larger, whatever your needs are
we can accommodate, I assure you!” Edgar patted his ‘niece’s’
knee. Katie squirmed. “Bigger if you like. This one is mine
and I prefer her this way.”
The Chinese nodded, then matched his protege’s smile. “In this
case, I see possibilities. Certain Hong Kong businessmen would
enjoy such a pretty dove as your– niece. And your supply is
secure.” It was a shielded question, not intended to imply
disbelief but to signal it.
Edgar nodded and slapped Katie’s thigh, bringing a brief red rise
from the pale skin. “Mr. Chang, there are more where Katie came
from. All I need is your ordering information and I can
guarantee delivery within eight months. As well as guarantee of a
volume of at least two million US dollars.”
The older Chinese nodded and rose. The younger man did likewise.
As if on pre-arranged cue, the two bowed.
“You have been a most gracious host and your proposition has been
well-received. May I trouble to ask one last question?”
Edgar offered open palms. “Anything, Mr. Chang.”
“Why you do this? You are most wealthy and prosperous. You not
need to trade in these goods.”
Edgar bowed and walked the two to the door. As he showed them
out, he answered. “School pride, Mr. Chang. Chalk it up to an
old b-ball player for Elgin Academy.”
The two Chinese shook their heads, unsure of what the round-eyes
meant, but smiling politely as they bid goodnight. Edgar closed
the door and turned to his niece.
“You probably thought I had forgotten what day it is, didn’t
you?”
Katie’s false smile dissolved. Abruptly, she stood up, hands
folded in front of her. “Uh, no sir. You never forget.”
“Too bad for you, huh Katie?” He took a last swig from his
highball and placed the empty glass on an end table. Then Uncle
Edgar pulled out a sheet of paper from the breast pocket of his
suit jacket and looked it over, holding his hand in his chin as
he contemplated the typed words. He reseated himself in the
armchair. Katie unwillingly positioned herself, standing in
front of her seated uncle.
“Friday, as we both know is Review Day. Since you’re a maturing
girl of sixteen and a half, it is important to make sure you are
growing up correctly. And there are some interesting things on
the list this week. So let’s review the notes I have on you,
Katie. Ah, a note from your teacher, Mrs. Lee at the English
School. It seems you had a run in your stockings on Monday–
very unladylike. Can you explain this?”
Katie remembered– she had bumped up against a desk leg and it
had put a small run in her white stockings. It hadn’t been that
bad. She had repaired it with her nail polish as she had been
taught in the Girl’s Lavatory and hoped her instructors hadn’t
seen it. She had been wrong.
“It was a small run, Uncle Edgar. And if you let me wear
pantyhose, I could have borrowed some from a friend,” Katie
whined.
Uncle Edgar waved the explanation away brusquely. “We’re NOT
going to have that discussion again. Proper young ladies like
you wear stockings and garters– NOT pantyhose! The next thing
would be pants for God’s sakes!” He laughed at that ridiculous
concept. “Next year we can talk about possibly letting you wear
thigh highs, but for now, you’ll be more careful– understand?”
Katie swallowed and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Fine.” He marked the list. “Three spanks for that
indiscretion. Now, I have a note from Ms. Ky, your gymnastics
instructor, that you have received a C- on your half term
routine. Why?”
Katie pulled the kimono tight. “I can’t do splits, Uncle. the
girls can–”
“You mean the OTHER GIRLS can, but you can’t. You’re a girl too,
remember Katie?” His eyes bored into her and she nodded.
“Yes, Uncle, I mean the other girls. But I can’t because of–”
That answer was clearly unacceptable, because Uncle Edgar waved
silence on her. “You’re not practicing enough. You WILL learn
to do a split properly, learn to do the uneven bars and learn to
do cartwheels and flips. You will find that your chastity belt
will allow you to do all this. If not, we’ll see a doctor about
making you physically able to do this. Are we clear?”
Katie grimaced. “Yes, Sir. But,” she smiled brightly, “I did
get a B on my math quiz!”
Uncle Edgar smiled. “Yes, but what good will that do you, Katie?
You’re a girl and girls like you will never be good in math–
it’s a fluke. Besides you spend too much on math. I’m taking
you out of that class. I want you to learn French instead.
Won’t that be fun– French is the language of romance, you
know!”
Katie answered with a doubtful smile.
“Now, a C- deserves, oh, five spanks. Next, I see Mrs. Wong says
when she took you to Kowloon to help her shop, she noticed a
chipped nail!”
Katie nodded, accepting the blame. “yes, Sir. I know I must
keep better care of my nails.”
“Let me see them now,” commanded Uncle Edgar.
She presented her hands, palms down. He held her soft, small
hands, examining hem for flaws. But the nails were a perfect set
of hot pink well-shaped long finger nails. “Since they are in
good shape, just one spank. Now let’s see, we have a total of
nine spanks for this week! Well, very good Katie! That is three
less than last week! Congratulations!”
Katie grinned proudly. Last week’s no-nos had really put the
fear of God into her. Her butt had really paid a price. Fine,
she would only get nine. She could live through it, as long as
there was hope that some day she wouldn’t have any, that someday
she wouldn’t be a she any more! She had hooked her thumbs into
her panties to pull them down and present herself for her weekly
correction, when Uncle Edgar wagged a finger.
“Not yet, sweet thing. There’s one more I left off– because
it’s so especially naughty.”
Katie sucked in a breath as he pulled out a small piece of pink
paper.
“A sheet from your diary, missy. You see, I was reading through
it the other day to make sure you were putting down all your
little thoughts like you’re supposed to and I noticed a page had
been ripped out. I wondered, why would Katie rip a page out–
had she written something inappropriate? But I couldn’t find it.”
He shook his head in mock gravity. “Well, as your uncle, I had
to get to the bottom of it. So I asked Ms. Chan the housekeeper
if she had seen anything like it. And do you know what she told
me?”
Katie’s eyes had widened into watery half-dollars, ready to spill
frightened tears. She nodded sadly.
“Of course you do, because you gave it to her to pass on. Here–
is this yours?” He unfolded the note and handed it to his niece.
Katie regarded it ruefully. What had she been thinking to have
done this?
To Anybody’s Attention,
Please help me! I am being kept as a sex slave by a crazy
businessman named Edgar Stiffington in Hong Kong. He has had me
turned into a girl named Katie and tells people I am his niece,
but I am really a boy! I don’t remember my real name because of
the things they have done to me and I look like a girl, but I am
really a boy! Please help– he makes me do things I don’t like
to do and he punishes me if I don’t do them the way he likes!
I know this sounds crazy, but if you can read this, then you have
to help me!
Uncle Edgar gently pulled the page out of his niece’s hand and
tore it into tiny pieces of confetti. “Too bad Mrs. Chan can’t
read English. Too bad she couldn’t understand what you were
trying to tell her. Oh well– you’ll just have to be punished
for this bit of misbehavior. Too bad. I think eleven spanks are
in order for this– for an even twenty. Go on Katie, you know
what to do.”
Twenty! She hadn’t had that many for many months! But she had
been bad, very, very bad, and she knew she deserved it. Because,
tonight she realized that she WAS Katie, WAS a sixteen and a half
year old girl, and she WAS and would ALWAYS BE her uncle’s
plaything. With a genuine penitence, she slipped off her kimono
top and pulled down her black cotton bikini panties. Trembling,
she draped herself over uncle’s knees. She could already feel
the hard cock underneath his trousers coming to life.
Edgar looked at the nude pale moons in his lap. As he always
did, he effortlessly unhooked Katie’s training bra, pulling the
straps back and leaving her back bare except for the innocent
freckles. Before raising his open palm, he fingered the soft
wires that ran up between her cheeks and around her waspy waist.
A slight tug on it brought a moan from Katie. He grinned.
“Your troublemaker, Katie– it’s what leads you straight into all
this naughtiness! Imagine– you a boy! Why you’re just the
prettiest, sexiest little niece an uncle like me could ever
have!” He raised his palm and dropped it hard on Katie’s rump.
“Bad little girl! I’ll teach you not to think you’re a boy!”
And so the correction continued. And after it was over, her
uncle taught Katie just how to be a good little girl. He was
such a thoughtful man.
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